Page 74 of Scarred (Russian Sinners 2)

His gruff immediately turned into concern. “Are you ok?”

I cleared my throat, uncomfortable. “Um, yes. Just didn’t expect a claim.”

He smiled and his eyes twinkled. “I couldn’t help it,” he retorted back, still smiling. Darn it, he was irresistible when he smiled.

I shook my head.

“See you on the terrace when I’m done?” I asked instead. When he nodded in agreement, I turned to leave him but he stopped me.

“Hey, you are forgetting something,” he remarked, his lips tilted in a smile.

I mused trying to figure out what I forgot. I looked down my body and noted I had shoes on.And my clothes are on so we are all good there,I added jokingly in my mind.

I returned to his eyes with a raised eyebrow. “What am I forgetting?” I questioned, at the loss, trying to figure out what he was hinting at.

His hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his body. His mouth pressed softly against my lips, stopping too soon. “A kiss,” he murmured and kissed me one more time.

I smiled happily. “Ah, how could I?” I teased him back. “It is the last time I forget a kiss goodbye. I promise.”

Damn, I really, really liked him. Then I turned and headed for the painting room as I had come to call it.

As I passed Andrey, he winked at me, and I blushed lightly. I couldn’t help but smile back at him although slightly embarrassed. What was it with men and feeling the need to claim? I had to admit it to myself, I liked it when Nikolai did it.

For the next hour, I painted on a canvas that had been blank for way too long. Although as images played through my mind and I worked to transfer them onto a canvas, it became clear it wasn’t my signature painting style. But maybe that made sense. I wasn’t the same person anymore. So much had happened that I would never be that same person.

As I eyed the painting, I saw it for what it was. It was a start. I was going in the right direction… thanks to Nikolai. My eyes studied the beginning of the image on the canvas. There was no question about who it was; that beautiful scar a dead giveaway. His tattoo covered arm with a hand against my throat, my red hair mingling with his fingers. The coloring was mixed… his blue eyes, his inked arms, my red hair, the scar down his cheek, the look on his face mirroring the expression on him that first day I caught him in the pool pleasuring himself.

It portrayed the way my mind saw last night. Darkness mixing with pleasure and bringing back the light I had craved for so long. The painting was intimate but not erotic. Although it hinted at it; at least to me it did. It made me want to drag Nikolai back here and demand more of the pleasure he gave me last night.

God, last night… it was amazing, exhilarating. It was self-discovery on the most basic level and it shocked me. It wasn’t what I expected at all. I thought back to the moment Nikolai’s big hand wrapped around my neck. He could snap it easily; I had no doubt about that. Yet, I wanted his hand there. I wanted his strength and safety that came with it. How was it that I found so much pleasure in it? Even now, just thinking about it, that sweet spot between my thighs pulsed with an ache. I pressed them together and the throbbing intensified.

Fuck, I needed Nikolai now. I could slip my hand between my legs, but I knew it wouldn’t be the same. I hadn’t pleasured myself in such a long time, and even back then when I did, it was never satisfying.

I could go and run off this sexual frustration,I thought. Now if that wasn’t a change of direction, I didn’t know what was. Quickly covering the canvas to ensure nobody saw it, I headed out.

I left the painting room, feeling slightly flushed at the images twirling in my mind. As I passed Andrey, he smiled at me as he gave a heads up to security outside. I knew Nikolai was on the terrace; hearing his booming voice. As I pulled my headphones out of my pocket, I found my regular running route on his compound. And even as my tennis shoes hit the soft ground, I knew no amount of miles would ease up this ache for Nikolai. Only he could do it.

* * *

An hour and a half later, I was back at the terrace working on catching my breath. Nikolai was on the phone, speaking in Russian, but his gaze was on me.

I stayed glued to my spot, watching this force of a man. He was big, his whole presence commanding and overbearing, even without the scar etched on his face. He was six foot five, all muscle. He was the type you’d be scared to run into in a dark alley. But for all his intimidating looks, he felt safer to me than any other man I had ever met.

He seemed slightly tense, the only thing giving it away was his tightly pressed jaw.

I patiently waited for him to end his call, my breathing slowly easing into normal. My muscles were sore in the best way possible and my mind was at ease. This morning felt like a new beginning. I couldn’t explain it but it felt amazing. It felt like the old me before Malcome. Or maybe it was the simple act of painting and exercise that caused all this.

No, it was this force of a man.

Nikolai strode over to me and wrapped his big arm around my waist, pulling me closer. Burying my face into his chest, I deeply inhaled, his smell engraving into my lungs. He smelled all male, making my lady bits quiver for him. If he only knew how deeply he affected me.

His chest rumbled each time he spoke, and his body was tense. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t happy about it. Just as I was about to tell him I was going to take a shower, he ended the call.

I raised my head in search of his eyes just as he bent down and his lips sought mine.

It was just a fleeting kiss, but it shook me to the core. It was possessive, demanding, needing, and consuming, all wrapped in one.

“Did you paint?” he asked, his voice deep and soft but his body tense.

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